


Heir to Naught

by Lhugy_for_short



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood and murder, Coercion, Gangbang, Gralea is not a nice place to live, M/M, MT!Prompto, Master/Pet, Oral Sex, Prince of Niflheim AU, Semi-Public Sex, Sort Of, assassination plots, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-02 04:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13310871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: Prompto was made with a single purpose - to one day rule all of Niflheim in the ailing Emperor's stead. But he dreams of more, of a life beyond the walls of the Keep, and it seems the only one willing to help him escape is Ardyn.Of course, his assistance comes at a traitorous cost.





	1. The Magitek Prince

**Author's Note:**

> First submission for Promdyn Ship Week~! Day One: _Prompto, the lonely prince of Niflheim AU_. There will be at least two more parts, with increasing gore, smut, and general mayhem. Possibly a fourth chapter depending on the folks over at Tumblr heheh.

At the height of his empire’s reign, Iedolas Aldercapt learned that he was dying.

He was old, and so it came as little surprise to his closest advisors once the news of his imminent end had spread. They began in haste to make preparations for Niflheim’s future; a future without an emperor at the seat of power, for Aldercapt had never chosen an heir. 

It was in this time of crisis that two men stepped forward with an unlikely solution. A project, they said, developed underground with  _ questionable _ methods, but which would guarantee a perfect successor for the throne: a Magitek heir. With the emperor’s permission, Verstael claimed he could ready the prototype in a matter of weeks.

Aldercapt gave him ten days.

Parts were taken from the pile of previous, unsuccessful attempts. Where Verstael had failed before, he was confident now that this model would survive. Ardyn had given him the technology - these so-called  _ Magitek cores _ \- which would ensure his creation’s autonomy, and most importantly its loyalty. The prototype would be manufactured to carry out Aldercapt’s visions exactly as he dreamed them; and if Verstael saw fit to impress upon it his own  _ minor _ alterations, well. That was simply part of the deal. 

No one could have predicted that this machine, this soulless amalgamation of spare parts and synthetic intelligence, would prove to be so much more. That he would be able to feel, and think, and  _ question _ . That he would dream of something more than just the role he’d been created to serve. No one could have known - no one but Ardyn, who in his endless scheming had seen an opportunity within his grasp. 

Prompto, as the prototype came to be called, would be his ticket to a power great enough to rival that of the gods.

* * *

 

Morning, and outside the windows of the keep the grey clouds threatened snow. It always seemed to be snowing in Gralea, no matter the season. Some claimed it was due to the death of the ice goddess, Shiva, at the base of the mountains that surrounded the city. Others claimed it was the Lucians, conjuring dark magic with the aid of their Crystal and King. 

Prompto, for one, wasn’t sure he believed either side. People liked to talk, he knew, and to spread rumors. They liked to instill panic - after all, their country was at war - and nothing was more terrifying than an enemy they had no hope to defeat. Astrals, prophecies, demons; against them, even Niflheim was surely powerless.

At least, those were the whispers he heard in the walls at night. The people were afraid, of that there was no doubt, yet no one dared to bring their concerns to the feet of the Emperor himself. For Aldercapt, after defying the odds and his doctors’ grim prognosis, still sat atop the Red Throne and ruled with a cruel, bloody fist. His mind remained sharp despite his withered body, and he tolerated talk of the empire’s weakness as if it were dissention. 

Prompto had borne witness to more than a few of his tyrannical rampages - in which several officials had quite literally lost their heads - after a ‘strategic withdrawal’ against the Kingsglaive forces had audaciously been called a ‘retreat.’

So fears were whispered in the dark, spread through Gralea like a sickness fueled by the Emperor’s cruel will. And Prompto heard all of it. He knew that it was part of his design, that he’d been made to be the eyes and ears of Zegnautus where Aldercapt’s couldn’t reach. He also knew that he was meant to report back to him on all that he learned. It was his purpose, his duty. 

Part of him, of course, longed to do just that. Pleasing his Father meant that he had done well, satisfied the need deep inside of him for praise, for fulfillment. But that part of him wasn’t  _ who he was _ . What  _ he  _ wanted was freedom, to escape these walls and the hateful man who controlled every aspect of his existence. He didn’t  _ want _ to serve Niflheim anymore than he wanted to be its prince.

But who would ever allow a machine like him to dream? 

It was just after breakfast when he was summoned to an audience. Prompto dressed quickly - his usual robes of white and red, garb befitting an Imperial prince - and hurried to the throne room with several masked troopers in tow. Aldercapt was already there, seated atop his throne and scowling at nothing in particular. Next to him, Chancellor Izunia and a man Prompto knew far too well: Verstael Besithia, perhaps the only person in Gralea crueler than the Emperor himself. 

Approaching the dais, Prompto made sure to keep as far out of his reach as possible. 

Aldercapt sneered. “Took you long enough, boy. Are we ready now? Send in the traitor.” 

Prompto’s head snapped to attention as the doors to the chamber opened. A man was lead in, his arms bound behind his back and his face concealed beneath a heavy black cover. Yet he was still clad in the gilded armor of a decorated general within the Imperial ranks. The metal plates ground together as he was forced to his knees on the marble floor, and the bag ripped from his head without a word. 

General Caligo. Prompto stiffened next to the throne, his shock just barely concealed behind an emotionless mask. Caligo was one of the Army’s best and most ruthless fighters. How could  _ he _ be a traitor? 

“Caligo Ulldor, you stand accused of treason in the eyes of the Empire,” came a familiar, almost pleasant voice from Aldercapt’s left; Izunia, smiling as he read out the captive’s crimes. “Your troops were seen fleeing from the field of battle against the Lucian Glaive forces. As a result of your cowardice, the battle ultimately ended in a...less than favorable outcome for our side. How do you plead?

“Innocent!” Caligo cried, his face twisting in rage. “This accusation is absurd! We were outnumbered, I had no choice but to withdraw! It was to save the lives of my men.”

As Prompto watched, Ardyn’s smile widened - much like a spider toying with a helpless fly caught in its web. “Is that so? Then perhaps you can explain why it was  _ your _ craft spotted at the forefront of the retreat, while your troops were left to scatter behind you? Tell me,  _ Brigadier;  _ how many of your precious men do you think actually survived?”

Even from across the room, the color as it drained from Caligo’s face was damning. Ardyn turned to face the Emperor and bowed low in a flourish of pomp and sleeves. He rested his case. Aldercapt leaned toward the arm of his throne, voice low and hushed as he spoke with Verstael; the fate of the man kneeling before them hung in their words. And through it all, Prompto could only swallow back his terror at the decision he knew would inevitably come. 

There was a twisted mirth in his eyes when the Emperor ordered an immediate execution. 

Caligo struggled, shouted, begged for his life like the coward they all claimed him to be, but in the end it was all for naught. He was held down by the masked soldiers while Verstael himself stripped him of his armor. Piece by piece, until the former general stood half-naked before them and pleaded for mercy.  _ Wasn't this torment enough _ , he cried. His voice, however, fell on deaf ears. 

"Watch and learn, my boy." From too close beside him, Aldercapt's rasping words turned Prompto's insides to ice. "Someday, it will fall to you to deliver the righteous hammer of justice. You must know how to root out your enemies. And you must be merciless. Watch!"

Prompto did as he was told. Unblinking, his deep, blue eyes saw everything: Verstael's dagger as it was withdrawn from its sheath, slowly, deliberately; Caligo's wide-eyed terror as his head was pulled back, exposing his neck for the blow; the flash of the blade, and blood, dark red and thick with life, as it spilled out onto the marble floor. 

Prompto watched it all without a sound, but inside he was screaming. 

Before Caligo's body even hit the floor, Verstael had returned his dagger to its sheath. He stepped aside as the blood oozed past his boots, then turned to make his way back to the dais. His eyes fell on Prompto as he passed, cold, calculating, but the blond never once let his mask slip. Practice kept his expression blank, his mouth drawn in a flat line even as he continued to watch the corpse being dragged from the room. The sight of the blood trailing behind it made him sick, yet he never flinched. He didn’t dare. 

The audience was over. Aldercapt dismissed him again with a disinterested wave of his hand, but it took every ounce of energy in Prompto's body to carry him out of the room. 

At last, alone in the corridor, he fell back against the wall and screamed silently into his hands.

_ How much longer?  _ How much longer would he be forced to endure this place? How much longer could he play the role, act the part, before it broke him? Prompto didn’t belong here, he didn’t, no matter what Verstael and the others said. And he knew he was going to have to find a way out soon, or else -- 

"Messy affair, that." 

The voice was close enough to immediately startle Prompto out of his thoughts. He whirled around, catching sight of unkempt auburn hair and yellow eyes watching him from under a wide-brimmed hat.  _ Ardyn _ . Panic froze his blood. "C-Chancellor!"

"You were perhaps waiting for someone else?" The tone in his voice was disarming -  _ barely. _ Much like the smile he wore as he let the door fall closed behind him and began to approach. Prompto had spent as much time avoiding Ardyn Izunia as he did the rest of Aldercapt’s men, but somehow he found the Chancellor particularly unsavory. It was those eyes, he thought, which existed just on the edge of light and shadow, and unsettled him to the core. 

Prompto took a step back. "I was going to my room. I don't need to be escorted."

The smile bearing down on him widened. "You misunderstand, Prince. I'm not here to shut you away like the others. I want to help." 

Fingers reached out for him, thick and surprisingly soft as they curled around Prompto’s chin. He forced himself not to flinch, not to pull away from the touch despite the renewed panic that once more surged through him. "I’m not sure...what you mean."

Ardyn tilted his face up and into the light. “Mmm, I wonder if Besithia is aware that his precious prototype is capable of producing tears?”

Shuddering out of his grasp, Prompto threw his hands to his cheeks to quickly wipe away the evidence; but his efforts did little more than amuse the Chancellor. It was too late. He'd already been caught. "Please," he begged. "This isn't what you think."

Ardyn smirked and once again closed the distance between them, this time backing Prompto into the wall. His shoulders blocked his view of the hallway beyond. "Is it not? Because it appears to me as though the favorite son of Niflheim has a distaste for blood and violence." His smile showed off far too many teeth. "And that just won't do."

Blue eyes went wide with fear, with trepidation. Prompto knew the consequences of failure, knew that he would end up dismantled, scrapped, another addition to the junk heap below Verstael’s lab. His survival depended on keeping his malfunction a secret. "Father can’t know."

A nod, slow and purposeful. "I agree," Ardyn smiled, leaning forward until his body was boxing Prompto in against the wall. "And I’ve already told you that I came to help. I'd like to take you out of this place." 

In his surprise, Prompto almost believed he'd misheard the Chancellor. He dropped his voice to a mere whisper, shrunk down under that piercing yellow gaze. " _ Out _ …? You mean, out of the Keep?"

"Out of Gralea. Out beyond the walls, where you've always dreamed of bigger and better things."

The words struck deep. Too perfect, too promising; he didn't even question how Ardyn seemed to know. Prompto’s eyes unfocused as his mind wandered -  _ out of Gralea _ ,  _ beyond the walls  _ \- wanting with every fiber of his being to trust in the Chancellor’s words. And yet….

"Why?" He asked, voice wavering. "Why would you do that for me?"

Had he expected any answer at all, it certainly wasn't the brush of lips across his cheek. Prompto stiffened, instinct overriding his manners, as Ardyn kissed a line of fire down to his jaw, back up to his ear, pausing just below his temple. His body was oddly warm; his skin smelled of winter and wine, his breath like smoke as it curled down his neck. "Because I see the true potential in you. The light, and the dark, both waiting to be unlocked. I can do that." Prompto trembled as thick, bold fingers slipped inside of his coat, found the curve of his waist and settled there. Heavy, solid. A promise. "I can set you free."

He couldn't speak. Couldn't even breathe. Ardyn’s touch had stilled him as easily as if he'd flipped a switch. Prompto was spellbound under those dancing yellow eyes, so close now he could almost feel them bore into his flesh. 

The moment passed. Though Ardyn’s hand lingered beneath his coat, his thumb rubbing circles over the ridge of Prompto’s hip through his robes, he drew back far enough to break the spell. As the blond sucked in a shuddering breath, the Chancellor smiled again. 

"Consider my offer, won't you? I assure you, the reward will be well worth my fee." One last kiss, this time to the corner of Prompto’s mouth, and then he was pulling away at last. Ardyn bowed - a lavish affair complete with a twirl of his hat - before he turned and strolled off down the corridor, not a hair or sleeve amiss. 

Without those arms to hold him in place, Prompto collapsed back against the wall, defeated. It was clear that his options were only two: accept Ardyn’s offer, or risk losing everything. 

 

The Chancellor was waiting for him at the hangar, as had been arranged. He had a ship ready, one of the Emperor’s own, private vessels, small and fast. Hard to detect on radar, though not impossible. 

Prompto had never flown before, but he had been with Aldercapt on his last round of inspections; he knew this ship was not equipped with MT transport pods as many of the others were, and it had no weapons or defense shields should they find themselves accosted on the way out of the city. Nerves already on edge, he took one look at the ship and nearly abandoned the whole foolish plan on the spot. 

Unfortunately, Ardyn had already noticed him. Even dressed as he was in a dark coat that covered him to the ankles, Prompto stood out like a sore, blond thumb. Before he could make up his mind to turn back, Ardyn was already waving him over, a wide, welcoming smile on his lips.      

"Perfect timing, Prince. Your chariot awaits."

He was ushered up the ramp and into one of two seats facing the controls. Luckily, he wasn’t expected to fly (though he wouldn’t have been surprised to discover those skills already installed in his memory banks). Instead, Ardyn slipped into the seat next to him, pressed one button to close the hatch, and another to open the docking bay doors. Above them, the night sky was dark with clouds - more snow on the way.

But soon, Prompto thought as his heart pounded in his chest, that would all be behind them. Soon, all of this would be a nightmare of his past. 

The ship lurched forward through the opening. Hovered for a moment above the hangar while Ardyn adjusted their bearings, and then they were moving, fast and steady while the lights of the city grew smaller and smaller outside the windows. Up, up, shuddering violently as they plowed into the thick clouds and then out of them again.

Prompto gasped. 

All around them now, stars shone like diamonds in the impossibly clear sky. Here above the storm, he already felt his fears falling away as a new kind of hope took their place. This...was  _ real _ . 

With Ardyn at the helm, the ship traveled on. Prompto’s wrist, and the barcode imprinted into it, itched as they cleared the static of Gralea’s invisible barriers, but he pushed it easily from his mind. The great snowy mountains came into view, passed below them, and beyond there was only an ocean of white - snow, ice, and somewhere, so the rumors claimed, the corpse of Shiva herself. He didn’t look.

For the next few hours, Prompto wasn’t aware of the passage of time - only of the land passing beneath them as they soared ever further from the capitol. Out towards the seas beyond the reach of the Empire. It was somewhere near the borders of Tenebrae that Ardyn at last set them down on a deserted patch of beach - and turned to face his passenger. 

“Why did we stop?” Prompto asked, leaning onto the control panel to get a better look outside. It was dark, drenched in shadows save for where the moonlight fell in strips across the white sand. “Aren’t we leaving Niflheim? I want to go to Lucis. This isn’t far enough.”

Fingers suddenly carded through his hair, and Prompto froze. 

“You could run to the ends of the world and it still wouldn’t be enough,” Ardyn smiled. He got to his feet, left his hand on Prompto as he guided him to do the same. Panic surged, threatened to spill over into a scream. Had this been a trap?!

But Ardyn’s fingers were not demanding, not yet. He read into Prompto’s fearful expression and slid one hand down to cup his cheek, an almost tender gesture. “As it stands, you are a prisoner. No, not mine, but of that visionless imposter who sits upon the Red Throne.”

“Imposter…? Father?” 

A laugh, dark and yet somehow not harsh. Like the warmth of Ardyn’s body once more pressing in against his. “Ruling is an art form. It takes true genius, yet the power is wasted on that shriveled up old fool. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Prompto couldn’t say that he did, but he kept silent anyway. 

“My point, dear  _ prince _ , is that you will never know freedom so long as Aldercapt pulls your strings.”

“But.” He shook his head. “You promised you could help me. You say you could set me free, I don’t understand --”

His words were silenced as Ardyn’s lips suddenly closed over his. A chaste kiss, yet his eyes widened and his heart raced all the same. The Chancellor pulled him close, held him as if he were a doll, fragile, beautiful,  _ obedient _ . But Prompto wasn’t a doll. Anger surged through him like a sickness, and he shoved Ardyn away. “Don’t do that!”

“I told you my assistance had a fee.” 

“But you haven’t helped me! We’re still in Niflheim!”

Yellow eyes darkened, and that smile - the one which Prompto trusted the least - stretched across Ardyn’s face. “I intend to give you what you want, but first you must listen to me. Your freedom comes only with the death of Iedolas Aldercapt.”

“What?”

“And in order to kill him, you and I need to come to...an understanding.” 

“Kill him?!” 

Two strides and Ardyn was back, pulling Prompto into his arms as if he knew he wouldn’t be refused again. Perhaps he did. He had Prompto’s coat off of his shoulders and his hands inside of his robes before the blond had finished processing his words. “Yes, kill him,” he hummed, his mouth hot on the side of his neck. “He trusts you. That will be his undoing.” 

Prompto shuddered. His hands sought purchase on Ardyn’s shoulders, yet he didn’t push him away. “I can’t. I could never.” 

“The blood doesn’t need to be on your hands. Leave that to me.” Hasty fingers finished unfastening the front of his robes, and Ardyn let the fabric cascade from pale shoulders, pool around Prompto’s feet until he stood before him, naked. “I will do it for you. For your freedom.” 

_ Kill.  _ The word echoed in his skull even as those unfamiliar hands moved over his skin. It was wrong, there had to be another way. If he fled to Lucis, if he changed his name, if he spent the rest of his life in hiding, there had to be  _ some other _ way to escape. 

As if reading his thoughts, Ardyn chuckled. “By the way,” he smirked, pulling back to stare into distant blues. “How is that wrist of yours?” 

_ It hurts.  _

“Don’t you know what those barcodes are really for? What happens when an unauthorized machine is taken outside the borders of Niflheim?” 

_ No.  _

“Would you like to find out? I promise you it isn’t a pretty sight.” 

His breath faltered. His heart beat against his rib cage, a combination of fear and Ardyn’s hands sliding over his skin. Was he telling the truth? Was it another of his manipulative games? Prompto had only one way to be sure, but the risks were too great to attempt. Death if he ventured on, death if he returned alone. 

It was hardly a question of trust - he’d already made a grave mistake in following this man once; now no other choices remained to him. 

Tears formed; he bit them back. Let his eyes fall closed as he gave himself over to Ardyn in answer. He would help him - they would help  _ each other _ . Or he would die trying, because now that he had tasted hope there would be no going back. Aldercapt was all that kept him chained. Whatever it took to defeat him, he would have to do it. 

Even if that meant giving Ardyn everything he wanted in exchange. 

The Chancellor’s lips sought his out once more. Silenced his thoughts as he was kissed, deeply, then guided down to his knees on the floor. He let Ardyn take the lead; tried not to think as that hot, thick cock was pushed into his mouth. Again and again, fingers all the while tangling in his hair. 

Tried not to imagine how it would feel to return to Gralea, a traitor and a defect.

Tried not to picture blood, dark, red, staining his hands, his clothes, the walls of the Keep.

“Don’t shy away from destiny,” came the husky voice from above. Blue eyes gazed up from under heavy lids even as Prompto opened his jaw wider to accommodate. “Light is easy to love. I want you to show me your darkness.”   

 


	2. Betrayals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning victorious from the broken city of Insomnia, Emperor Aldercapt is unprepared for the danger awaits him in his own home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for Day 6 of Promdyn Ship Week!! The prompt is "Ardyn's personal MT!Prompto" :3 
> 
> Also. SFW here but the next chapter will be pure filth. Enjoy *v*

All of Gralea was alight that evening in celebration. From Zegnautus to the poorest slums of the Class 6 District, the people raised their drinks to the turn of the tide. Everywhere, news of Emperor Aldercapt’s triumphant return from Insomnia - of Lucis’ betrayal on the eve of peace and of the fall of the traitorous King - had spread like wildfire throughout the city. Regis was dead, and with him died the black magic of the Crystal. Niflheim would at last be free of the terrors of war.

Iedolas and his advisors, the Chancellor included, had been gone for nearly a week in preparation for the so-called peace treaty. Prompto was left behind, of course, but that hadn't stopped him from overhearing the whispers of the Emperor’s true motives. While the rest of Gralea toasted to him as a hero, Prompto knew he’d gone to Lucis with the sole purpose of stealing the Crystal while Insomnia burned beneath his feet.

It had been cruel. Underhanded. _Evil_. What pride was there in a war won by deceit anyway? While it was not his place to question his father, he also found it impossible to stomach the distasteful truth. Now more than ever, he knew Ardyn had been right all along - a man like Aldercapt wasn’t fit to rule an empire. He would have to be stopped.

And Prompto was the key to Izunia’s plan.

* * *

 

The meeting that morning was brief, but everyone was in attendance. Reports had come in that Regis Caelum’s son - the young Prince Noctis - had been spotted in some desert land called Leide far away from the mountains of the empire. He appeared to be traveling with two members of the Crownsguard, and some, like Verstael, feared they would make for Gralea to seek revenge.

Others, like the High Commander, dismissed the prince as a hapless child. “He is powerless without his magic,” Ravus sneered. “So long as the Crystal is ours and the Ring of Lucii remains lost, the prince poses no threat to us.”

Beside him, the Dragoon mercenary Highwind was quick to point out that lost things tended to surface sooner or later - just like the High Commander’s own sister, the Oracle Lunafreya, had recently turned up in Altissia.

While they bickered, Prompto observed the proceedings in silence. He had his own opinions, of course, which mostly amounted to how sorry he felt for the young prince who had lost everything. But he knew his insight would neither be appreciated or allowed. _Watch. Listen. Serve_. Those were his tasks.

At least, for a while longer. _Soon,_ he thought to himself as his gaze fell on Aldercapt at the head of the table. _Soon, this will all be over._

The proceedings finished with orders to keep a close watch on Regis’ son and his companions. Both the High Commander and the Dragoon were assigned to the oversight of bases near the fallen Lucian capitol, and Verstael was tasked with ramping up production of MT units to deal quickly with any rebellions. Ardyn took it upon himself to trail Prince Noctis’ whereabouts. In fact, he offered to leave immediately to begin preparations for his journey to Lucis, which he promised would be ‘very fruitful indeed.'

Ardyn bowed low before turning to follow the others out of the room; but Prompto didn’t miss the way those yellow eyes graced him just in front of the door. There was no smile on his face this time, and Prompto’s fingers twitched at his side. The message was clear.

The time to act was upon them.

Silence fell as the Chancellor vanished into the hallway. To Prompto’s left, Iedolas was still seated, his knotted fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the surface of the table. “That _boy_ ,” he snarled to the otherwise empty room. “I don’t trust him. He’s soft. That sister of his makes him a liability.”

Prompto remained quiet, waiting to be addressed.

“That girl, too. Loyalty runs shallow in the blood of sellswords.” Rising from his seat, Iedolas beckoned for his cane to be brought to him, and Prompto swiftly obeyed. As he approached, he caught sight of a darkness lingering in aged eyes, a shadow that perhaps he had never noticed before. It flickered once, then went out again. “People are dishonest, selfish. They have their own plans, always scheming. Would that I could replace every one of them with obedient machines like you.”

Those ancient eyes raked over Prompto with slow appraisal; took in the sight of his flawless robes, his masked expression, his arms bent in offering as he held out the onyx-and-silver cane. And Aldercapt hummed. Not quite a smile, and not quite praise, but perhaps the closest he had ever come to either. It made Prompto’s hands shake, and he quickly folded them behind his back as the Emperor started past.

Just before he reached the door, Prompto found his voice again. “Sir,” he called, and Aldercapt slowed to a halt. “What do you think of Chancellor Izunia?”

A thoughtful pause. “Ardyn? The man has his uses, I suppose.” He turned, favoring Prompto with a curious look. “But ultimately inconsequential. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, sir, I just.” The words came slowly, carefully. “Since he returned from Lucis, I’ve heard him...talking.”

“ _Talking?_ What kind of talk?”

“About the Crystal.”

Aldercapt turned fully then, his eyebrows knotting in concern above his age-dulled eyes. Before Prompto could even flinch, the Emperor was hobbling back across the room, his cane rapping the floor with more force than necessary. “Why did you not inform me sooner? What have you heard? Spit it out!”

“H-he says that the light has gone out of it.” _For the greater good,_ he reminded himself despite the way his voice was trembling. Surely Aldercapt could sense his fear. “He says it’s broken without the true King’s power.”

Anger boiled behind steel-grey irises. “And to _whom_ has he been sharing these fallacies of his?”  

“To Minister Besithia.”

Slowly, gaze never breaking, Aldercapt nodded his head. His lips curved into a deep scowl, his eyes narrowed as his paranoid mind churned out a tale of betrayal. _Traitors, the both of them_ , his expression seemed to suggest, and Prompto could feel his hatred spreading as cold as ice in the very air. A long moment passed, another - he was afraid to breathe for fear of snapping the tension.

But then Aldercapt drew back. In one hand, he gripped his cane so tightly that his gnarled knuckles had gone white. “I think I might be time to pay Verstael a visit in person.”

Prompto stumbled hastily into a bow. “Let me to go with you, sir. In case he needs...a reminder of who he serves.”

“Ah.” The dark smirk Aldercapt shot him was almost approving. “The robot who bites the hand that feeds it, eh? At least I know where _your_ loyalties truly lie.”

As he was gestured to fall in behind the Emperor’s steps, Prompto barely managed to swallow back the bitter taste the betrayal had left in his mouth.

* * *

Two masked Magitek Troopers guarded the entrance to the laboratories beneath the Keep. With a wave of Aldercapt’s hand, they both stepped aside, shouldered their guns to allow him and his guest access to the security door beyond. It was a high-tech locking system, requiring not only a passcode but a retinal scan and voice recognition, as well. Even Prompto’s barcode, which gave him access to most of the other rooms of the Keep, was useless there. No one came in or went out without Verstael’s permission - except for the Emperor himself.

“ _Crystalis_ ,” he announced in a stern voice, and the security panel next to the door lit up. It prompted him to input a code, his fingers flying too fast for Prompto to register, and then a scanner tracked the contours of his face. After a series of mechanical whirring sounds, the double doors to the laboratory slid open, and Prompto had to scurry to keep up with the Emperor on his way inside.

_This is it. My chance._

Behind him, the doors began to hiss closed. From out of his pocket, Prompto withdrew a small, black device, nondescript and untraceable, and pressed a hidden switch on one of the ends. It made no sound as it was dropped to the floor, rolled silently through the opening between the doors to come to a stop just outside. And as Prompto passed just out of range, the device pulsed with energy - an EMP blast powerful enough to cripple the guards out front and short-circuit the security system, disabling the lock and freezing the doors in place before they could fully shut.

The well-timed scuffing of Prompto’s boots covered the sound of the MTs collapsing to the ground, and he hurried to follow Aldercapt into the lab.

They arrival came as a surprise to Verstael, who sat hunched over a desk in the main control room. Several workers jumped to attention, bowing low at the sight of the Emperor and Prince striding past their stations, until at last the chief himself glanced up from his work. *A-ah, Your imperial Majesty! This is...unexpected.” Rising to his feet, he swept into a bow of his own, the confusion - and suspicion - written plainly on his face. "To what do we owe this honor?”

“A word or two, if you please?” Aldercapt’s half-smile was tight, fleeting, and he gestured toward an office where they would be able to speak in private. Even still, Besithia barked at his staff to go and make themselves useful elsewhere; they quietly and quickly fled the room, and the two guests were led into the office.

Verstael took one hard look at Prompto and huffed. “I assume there has been some problem with my prototype? No need to bother yourself with this matter, Sire, I will see to the necessary repairs at once.”

“There is no problem with _him_.”

“No?” Stepping closer, Verstael pinched a lock of blond hair between his fingers as he scrutinized Prompto’s face. His other hand gripped his jaw, cruel and hard; turned his head this way and that to examine the blues of his eyes. “This one’s been showing increasing signs of duress as of late. I’ve suspected Izunia might be trying to tamper with my designs.”

“The problem,” Aldercapt sneered as he curled a hand around Verstael’s wrist and lowered his arm. “Is not with the boy. It is with _you_.”

Surprise - and thinly veiled anger - flushed to the surface of his skin. “ _Me?!_ I’ve done nothing but dedicate my life to serving this Empire, what doubts could you possibly have against me?”

“You’ve been talking with Izunia. Behind my back.”

“I -- Never! With Izunia?! The man hates me, and I him.” In the small office, Verstael seemed to grow larger in his fury. His chest puffed out beneath his robes, and his eyes opened wide, flashed with a dangerous light as he looked from Prompto to the Emperor and back again. “Has this _machine_ been saying things? Does it dare to speak out against the very man who _created it_?”

Heart pounding, knees shaking beneath him, Prompto struggled not to let his panic show. Besithia was bearing down on him in anger while Aldercapt merely watched from the side. Was he meant to defend himself? To raise his voice against the two most powerful men in Niflheim? That had hardly been part of the plan - he was the key, meant to open doors and set the trap. Ardyn was the one who had promised to finish the job.

But where was he?

“I-I...heard you,” Prompto stammered, doing his best to meet Verstael’s cruel gaze despite the fear cinching his throat. “Discussing the Crystal. How it was broken in the wrong hands.”

“So you can lie now, too, can you? What other tricks has Izunia been teaching you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.” For a split second, his mask faltered. Terror gripped him as Verstael’s hands lashed out.

“The only thing broken here is you! Filthy, ungrateful piece of _scraps_ , is what you are!”

“F-father, _please!_ ”

“I ought to dismantle you right here. Strip you down to your bones and see how far that _jester’s_ influence has spread!”

Prompto was yanked off balance as cruel fingers twisted in the collar of his robes. A ripping sound and the fasteners began to fall to the floor one after another, until nails were clawing at the bare skin of his shoulders instead. He cried out, scrambled back against the wall, but Verstael followed him, his rage an unstoppable force.

Across the room, Aldercapt continued to do nothing but watch.

_This was a mistake,_ Prompto thought as the larger man beared down on him. Scratches burned where his skin was broken; he felt helpless, trapped. _Ardyn lied, he isn’t coming_. Why had he believed the Chancellor would keep his promises anyway? Perhaps he’d meant for Prompto to fail, to serve as an example of what happened to those who betrayed the Emperor’s trust.

Metal flashed as Besithia drew the dagger he kept ever at his side. He held the cold steel of the blade to Prompto’s throat and snarled. “You were a mistake, a waste of my glorious talents. But my work will not be in vain, oh, no. From your parts I shall create something far greater, a more perfect being.” The tip of the dagger pressed to the soft skin at the base of Prompto’s throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the inevitable blow. “At least this body of yours will not go to waste.”

“I’d appreciate you leaving that body in one piece,” came a sudden and unexpected voice from just inside the room. “I’m quite fond of it.”

“Izunia!”

Whirling around, Verstael let Prompto slump against the wall all-but forgotten as he turned his attention to the figure of Ardyn stepping in through the doorway. “How did you - ?”

“Your little punching bag there left a light on for me. Such a good, loyal boy he is.”

Now Aldercapt was getting to his feet as well, his cane pounding against the tiles. “What is the meaning of this! Call the guards!”

Ardyn smiled amicably, watching Verstael rush for the security panel in a panic. “That won’t do you much good, gentlemen. I’ve already taken the liberty of ‘clearing the floor,’ if you will. There will be no one else to witness your final moments, I assure you.”

From the wall, Prompto clutched his robes around himself as the Chancellor swept further into the room. He could see both Aldercapt and Verstael stagger back, exchange looks before the dagger in the Minister’s hand was raised again. “Traitor,” he scowled. “You’ll pay for this!”

“Ah, but you haven’t even heard my plan yet. Aren’t you curious to know why I’ve come to kill you both?”

Before the question had fully left his tongue, Verstael was charging. Blade in hand, he slashed out, drove the dagger to the hilt directly into Ardyn’s chest, the full force of his weight behind the blow. As it sunk home, Prompto’s blood turned to ice.

_He hadn’t even tried to defend himself!_

“No…!”

His own voice was weak, defeated as the cry filled the room. Verstael left the dagger embedded in Ardyn’s cloak and staggered back, his face twisted in a triumphant grin.

“You were a fool to come here, Izunia.”

“Was I?” There was a odd humor coloring Ardyn’s voice, as if the weapon lodged in his chest was merely an annoyance rather than a fatal blow. Unflinching, he took a step forward, and another, smiling wider in the face of Verstael’s confusion. “I think _you’re_ the one who is outmatched.”

Prompto never saw his hands move. The dagger was suddenly ripping out of his body and turning on its owner instead, flying through the air towards him faster than anyone could react. There was a sound like wet meat and then Verstael fall back against the control panels behind him. Blood began to darker the fabric of his already crimson robes.

“You…!”

More blood dripped from the corner of his mouth before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the floor.

Next to him, Aldercapt’s face went white. “This...this is treason!” he gasped numbly, and drew away from the minister’s corpse. “Murderer! Murderer!”

“So are you.”

Prompto hadn’t even realized he’d spoken. Not until Ardyn turned to him with an affectionate smile and bowed his head. With the attention shifted, he straightened his back, swallowed his fear and continued. “You’re a murderer, Iedolas Aldercapt. You’ve killed innocent people, and you deserve to pay for your cruelty.”

Wide, pale eyes focused on him as Aldercapt dropped his cane.

“The boy is right. You’ve forfeit the right to the Red Throne. It’s time someone with more...finesse takes your place.”

Ardyn bent down over Verstael’s corpse. Drew out the dagger stained with dark blood and passed the hilt into Prompto’s outstretched hands. “Do me the honor?” his lips whispered against the rim of the blond’s ear, and Prompto shivered with more than just nerves. “We can do it together.”

_Together_.

Something was changing. When Prompto stared at the Emperor - the old, feeble, half-mad monster who had controlled every aspect of his life since as far back as he could remember - he felt none of the sympathy he usually harbored in his heart. With Ardyn’s hands closing over his own around the blade, he began to advance on him.

“No, stop, you’re making a huge mistake,” Aldercapt cried, gripping his chest through his robes in terror. “My son, my _son._ ”

“Take your life back, Prompto.” Those warm hands squeezed around his, easing the tremors.

“Please, my son, forgive me!”

“Show him what you’re truly capable of.”

Prompto gripped cold steel and frowned. “I’m strong. Stronger than _you_ will ever be.”

The blade plunged into Aldercapt’s chest. At the first sign of resistance Prompto nearly pulled away, but the Chancellor behind him was solid, strong. Together, they drove the dagger deep into the Emperor’s chest, pushed and pushed until his cries of pain fell silent and his body slumped backwards. With a final gurgle he slid off the end of the blade and collapsed onto the floor.

Silence flooded the void. In shock, Prompto dropped the knife - the sound as it clattered to the floor like thunder in the small room - and sank into Ardyn’s waiting arms. He felt lips brush the top of his hair, took comfort in the hands stroking his back, his shoulders, hugging him in close.

“You did it, pet. I knew you could.”

“I didn’t…. I didn’t think it would be me….”

“The blood on your hands is beautiful. It suits you.”

Deep, blue eyes glanced up, met those of vibrant yellow. “What happens now?”

“We rule. The empire belongs to us now, as does the Crystal.”

Prompto swallowed, shivered. “I want to leave Niflheim. I want to get out.”

“Do you? The seat of power is yours, do you really intend to cast it aside?”

_Yes._ Yes, he did. He could still escape with what was left of his life. He could flee to Lucis, seek asylum with the young prince and beg for forgiveness. He could help him, even, to restore his kingdom that had been snatched away. He could do _anything_.

“I told you, I never wanted this life.” Prompto tried to pull away then, but found himself suddenly caught tight in Ardyn’s grasp. “I have to get out of here, the guards will come back and --”

Next to his ear, Ardyn’s low voice stopped his breath. “ _Override code: Naught.”_

Prompto stilled. His face went slack as the circuits in his brain whined, flickered, shut down. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe; even the light in his eyes dimmed to blackness. Only the strong arms around his body kept him from dropping to the floor, lifeless and blank.

But then there was a spark. Behind his eyes, movement - a hard reboot coming back online. He twitched once, each of his limbs jerking as the system ran a diagnostics test, before blinking suddenly back to consciousness.

Gone was the bright blue tint of his irises - now they glowed with an all-too-familiar red light.

He looked up into Ardyn’s loving gaze and smiled.

"Welcome back."

“Thank you, Master.”

Above him, too many white teeth flashed in a grin. Ardyn chuckled, leaned forward to press his lips to Prompto’s, finding no resistance there. When he pulled back, those brilliant rubies were staring at him with adoration, even longing in their depths. Red eyes. The eyes of an MT.

Ardyn stroked a hand over one smooth, freckled cheek.

“Ahh. You live long enough, you begin to see the same eyes on different people. Come, pet. We have an empire to rule."


	3. In the Lap of Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ardyn's scheme has given him control over all of Niflheim, including its favorite son. But he still allows Prompto to enjoy the lap of luxury as often as he earns it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT. 
> 
> PURE FILTHY SMUT and I blame decerterus over on Tumblr for this debauchery. They know what they did... 
> 
> For Promdyn Ship Week Day Seven - Free prompt day :) So have some former-prince-turned-MT-sex-slave Prompto servicing an entire table of men to please his beloved Master~

Prompto closed his eyes and forced his lips further down the man’s cock. He was big - not as big as Master, of course - but the weight of him in Prompto’s mouth threatened to break his concentration. Again, he paused, forced himself to focus before sliding back up and suckling the tip. 

“Don’t go easy on me, baby,” an unfamiliar voice teased from above. The thick fingers already stroking his hair tightened, pulled. “You can do better.” 

A blush tinted freckled cheeks. Prompto gazed up from under the edge of the table to meet the man’s dark eyes, easily recognizing the hunger, the power there. His hair was pulled again. 

“Go on.”

The blond managed a smile. Drew in a breath and slid his mouth back down the impressive length until he could feel it in his throat. Already raw, already used. But there was still so much work to do before he reached his Master again. 

Hallowing his cheeks, he began to suck the man’s cock in earnest. He ignored the taste, the unfamiliar shape, the rough hairs that scratched his nose when he took him to the hilt. This man was but one of a half-dozen others who meant nothing to him. They were a test, a challenge. And Prompto was determined to pass with flying colors. 

The fingers twisting in his locks told him when the man was getting close, and he doubled his efforts. Hummed prettily around him (the way Master always liked) and let his eyes fall open again. He’d been told those eyes of his, wide and bright and red like glittering rubies,  _ did things _ to men. Made them lose their grip on their self-control, made them weak, vulnerable. Pushed them over the edge. 

It worked this time, too. The man in the chair grunted, his fist gripping Prompto’s hair painfully for the few seconds it took to release into his mouth. Hot cum burst forth, covering the blond’s tongue, his throat, spilling out of the corners of his mouth to dribble down his chin. His third offering for the evening, and he was only halfway done. 

Prompto drew himself off of the man’s flagging cock without so much as a second thought. Then he was moving, crawling clockwise on his bare knees beneath the table to the next in line. This new man already had his pants open, was already dragging his fist up and down his length. Impatient, Prompto batted his hand away and took him quickly between his lips. Sucked and licked and hummed in encouragement until he, too, was spilling over into perfect heat. Prompto swallowed down what he could and moved on. 

By the sixth and final man, he was nearly in tears. His jaw ached. His own cock hung swollen and neglected between his thighs. He felt full,  _ too full _ , his stomach gurgling in protest as he swallowed down more spit, more cum. With a whine he released the last man from his mouth and gasped in a lungful of air. The floor seemed to spin beneath him. Yet he was close, so so close. Master was there, right next to him, his legs spread as if in invitation. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Prompto crawled to him. 

“Master,” he smiled from under the table. His voice sounded gravely, hoarse. “I finished.”

Yellow eyes gazed down at him. “All of them?” 

Prompto counted again. “Yes, sir.”

The smile on his Master’s lips warmed his heart. “And I suppose you’d like your reward?” No sooner than the words had left his mouth than his Master began to open his robes. First his vest, then his shirt, and finally his belt, but those beloved fingers paused above the button of his trousers. “Tell me what you want, my pet.”

“Master’s cock.” 

“And what will you do with it?” 

Prompto nearly moaned in his need. “I’ll suck it. I’ll drink down everything Master gives me.”

Almost cruelly, that deep voice chuckled. “I think not, pet. Show me your mouth.” 

Panic raced through him, but Prompto did as he was told. Crawling to the edge of the table, he laid his head against the warmth of his Master’s thigh and looked up at him fully. Parted his swollen lips to show him the results of his hard work: his throat, red and raw; his tongue covered in a film of semen and slick; more of it clung to his cheeks, his chin, sticky and obscene. 

His Master examined him for a moment, then tutted. “Filthy. You think I’d let you touch me with such a dirty mouth?”

Tears, large and stinging, welled up in those red eyes. “I…!”

“ _ Tsk _ . Come. You’ll warm me with that pretty hole of yours instead.” 

Instantly, relief warmed Prompto’s blood. Followed quickly by a shuddering heat as he realized what his Master meant for him to do. Between his legs, his cock throbbed in anticipation. 

“Up, on your feet. Come here, my beautiful pet. Come get your reward” Prompto’s thighs trembled. He watched as his Master released his cock from its confines - such a thick, mouth-watering sight - and gestured for him out from under the table. With a smile, he swiped his thumb through a spattering of cum on the blond’s cheek, turned him around with gentle touches on bruised skin until his ass was held firmly in his grip. And then, as Prompto moaned his gratitude, his Master slicked him in front of the others at the table - just enough to ease the pain, but not enough to make him forget his place. 

Prompto whimpered, low and needy, as he climbed into his Master’s lap. It felt like ascending to a throne of his own, in a way, because when he was seated there he was always made to feel like royalty. His Master touched him, kissed his neck, praised him for his tightness and his heat. Held him close against his chest lest he lose his mind to the overwhelming power of it all. 

_ So good _ , he moaned as that magnificent cock slid home.  _ I love it. I love Master’s gift.  _

He started to roll his hips, but a hard swat to his thigh stilled him instantly. 

“No moving,” his Master said in a stern voice, as if disciplining a child. “I told you to keep me warm. Don’t be greedy, pet.”

“A-ah, yes Master. Sorry, Master.” Prompto swallowed back a moan. His hip stung where he’d been struck, but it did little to detract from the mind-numbing pressure of the heat inside him. It urged him to move, to squirm,  _ anything _ to ease the discomfort. The effort to resist brought fresh tears to his eyes. 

His Master smiled against his neck. “There, there, precious. If you’re good for me, I promise to fuck you atop this very table as soon as our business is complete” 

Another whimper, and the blond shuddered at the thought. 

His Master lowered his voice to a darker shade of cruel. “Will you be patient for me? Or am I going to have to let every man here have his way with you before you learn to behave?” 

“Please. I’ll b-be patient, Master.”

“That’s my good boy.” Lips still pressed to Prompto’s trembling skin, Ardyn turned his attention back to the men at the table. “Well, then, gentlemen. As you can see, my schedule is quite tight. Shall we begin the meeting, or are you going to help me test just how patient my pet can really be?” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, gentlemen at the table. 
> 
> Which do you choose? 
> 
> [Head on over to my Tumblr to vote on the epilogue!](http://lhugbereth.tumblr.com/post/169691637713/heir-to-naught-lhugyforshort-final-fantasy)


End file.
